


Clothing Required

by Xela



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, M/M, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-08
Updated: 2011-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-14 14:17:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/150089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xela/pseuds/Xela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Filled this kink at the Dean/Castiel kink meme: Castiel makes himself some Dean-related clothing; t-shirt with Dean's face on it, socks embroidered with Dean's name, possibly a hat shaped like Dean's head? It turns Dean on and they have sex while Castiel is wearing as much of the Dean-related clothing as possibly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clothing Required

It starts with a pin.

"Dude, who have you been talking to?" Castiel glances down at himself.

"I am told it is an appropriate way to publicize one's allegiances." Dean blinks. Cas is still wearing a green pin that says "My Savior's Name is Dean Winchester" with a smirking photo of him on it.

"Well yeah, if you're a high school _cheerleader._ " Castiel looks vaguely disgruntled and pops out of the room.

***

"Uh, Dean. What have we said about baiting the angels?" Sam asks disapprovingly.

"What are you--" Dean cuts off abruptly. Castiel is still wearing his pin, but has augmented his pro-Dean ensemble with a pair of close-fitting, embroidered jeans. Winchester flows down his right leg in curling, colorful script. There's a small stitched-version of the Impala, the Colt, and what's either Sam or apple pie on the left leg. DEAN! is sewn on Castiel's ass, Juicy-style. With rhinestones.

"Anna made them for me," Castiel says happily, turning and twisting to show them off. Sam sounds like he's dying and Dean...well. Dean ignores the faint thrill in his stomach. This is not something they should encourage. Really.

***

When Castiel shows up with a hat that emulates Dean's hair style, Sam buys him an entire bottle of Patrone and doesn't bitch about Dean drinking the _entire thing_ and then promptly throwing it all up again.

***

Sam's not around when Castiel pops up wearing his pin, hat, jeans, and a brand new shirt. The shirt has the cheesiest picture of Dean on the front—he's obviously drunk, in a bar, shooting two thumbs up at the camera. On the back it says "Dean's Angel" in big block letters.

If Dean were the one to feel ashamed, he'd be really, really fucking ashamed at being so turned on right now. In the middle of the library. In the children's fable section. Because Castiel is dressed like...that.

"Cas," Dean chokes out.

“Zacharia was not impressed with my shirt. I believe he is jealous.”

Dean growls and pounces. He tumbles Castiel and all his ridiculous, absurd clothing to the ground and kisses him. Castiel remains pliant for a moment, but soon returns the kiss, sloppily at first but angels are fast learners. Dean's fingers curl around the pin, tangled in Cas's shirt.

“Someone could see--”

“Don't care,” Dean mutters, looking down at himself on Castiel's chest. He decides to leave the shirt on. The pants, though, those have to go. Even if they are awesome. (Dean decides that's definitely apple pie, because Sammy doesn't get to be here for this, in jeans-form or not.)

Castiel chose a pretty well-endowed host, Dean'll give him that. He bucks up and yells when Dean swallows him down, throat stretching to accommodate his girth. Dean fights back his gag reflex; it's been a while since he's done this, but it all starts coming back.

Dean glances up, sees Cas thrashing against the floor, head shaking left and right as if disavowing what's happening. His eyes fly open when he hears someone moving down the stacks. Castiel's still letting out these mewling, pathetic sounds, so Dean reaches up and covers his mouth. He moans around the cock in his mouth when Cas bites down on the fleshy part of his hand.

“I think they may be downstairs,” a girl's voice says from far too close.

“Damn it, Clarissa, I told you!”

The two girls' bickering fades as they walk away. Dean keeps sucking on Castiel. Every time he looks up Dean sees himself giving him the thumbs up. Job well done.

Neither of them notice Sam turn the corner. Or the entire shelf of books he takes out trying to _get the hell out._ The entire scene is burned into Sam's retinas, so when it insists on playing in full view for him over and over, Sam registers Castiel's new t-shirt.

“That narcissistic angel fucker,” Sam mutters, trying to tune out Castiel's cries of passion. With a sigh he does the brotherly things and sits himself down to direct anyone away, because the last thing any of them need is a public indecency charge.

“You're my angel, bitch!”

Sam moans and buries his head in his hands. He so does not deserve this.


End file.
